When Ballet is Life
by Claeri
Summary: Lily is remembering her time at Hogwarts, the famous dance school. Loosely follows the events implied in the books, but in a ballet setting. LilyJames, SiriusOC, and RemusOC. Please review! Have fun reading.
1. Acceptance to Hogwarts

**A/N: Hi! Another ballet fanfic, yes. I know, I'm obsessed. Sorry. But their so fun to write, and I love ballet. And all you ballerinas out there, Russian Pointes rock, so ya! Enjoy, and I love reviews nearly as much as I love ballet!**

The train rattles on, lulling me into a relaxed state, halfway between sleep and wakefulness. It is in this state of mind that memories come to me most, and today, on a six hour train ride to Wales, I remember the day I got accepted to Hogwarts…

"Post for you, Lily!" called my older sister Petunia.

"Thanks Petti," I replied, taking the letter from my sister. The letter was thick, and addressed to "Miss Lily Evens" in bright green ink. I turned it over, and saw the crest in the wax was a large H.

I pulled out the first sheet of thick creamy paper, and astonished, began to read:

_Dear Miss Evens,_

_We are pleased to accept you at Hogwarts School of Ballet and Arts. Term starts on September 1st. You will take the Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 at King's Cross Station at eleven o'clock…_

At this point, I screamed, and my mum and sister came running.

"Lily darling, what's the matter?" cried my mum, hurrying over to me.

"I got in!" I cried, "I got in! I'm accepted!" I hugged my mother and started sobbing into her cardigan.

"You got in?" asked Mum, "What do you me—ooh…" Mum's confused expression turned into one of realization, and then to happiness, "Oh Lil, that's wonderful!" she started sobbing, and I though that day would be the best of my life.

Two months ago I had auditioned for the famed ballet school, hoping, though not really expecting to get in. My sister had auditioned two years ago and hadn't gotten in, so I didn't expect to either.

The letter also contained a sheet of paper with the dress code and color of leotards I needed, and the rest of things I would need to get.

That was the day my sister got cold and distant towards me, and I was pretty sure I knew why. She was so jealous that I had gotten into Hogwarts and she had not, that she had to hate me for it.

I smile as the train rattles through the country side. Petunia and I had never been close after that, and now, me a professional dancer, and her, a mother married to a banker, really didn't have much in common, and didn't talk to each other much.

It starts to rain and the steady pit-pat lulls me into that state again.

My first day of Hogwarts was just as wonderful as I had hoped. I had said good bye to my mum and Petunia at the station, before boarding the bright red train. That first day I hit off with a girl from Germany, Hermia Albrecht and a pair of twins from France, Adelaide and Adrienne Deniau.

We sat in a compartment and talked the whole train ride, and, by the time the sky had darkened to an inky black and the train was pulling into the station, we had vowed to be best friends for ever.

Of course, to put a blemish in a perfect day, I had to meet James Potter. I guess it was only a blemish at the time, seeing as now we're engaged... It happened around lunch time. This wiry, black haired boy entered our compartment, closely fallowed by another boy with longer dark hair, and fallowing them, a shorter boy with pale brown hair. Fallowing all of them was a small, twitchy looking boy who reminded me of a rat at the time. I was incredibly surprised that this boy had been accepted at such a wonderful dance school, because he was short and plump and didn't have the body of a dancer.

"So," said the leading boy, pushing his hand through his hair so it looked as though he had just finished dancing, "They told me the pretty red head was in this compartment," he smiled, and came over to sit next to me, "Did you know all the men in my family marry red heads? My mum's a red head, I got her hazel eyes, you know. I guess in fifteen or so years, we'll be married!" I thought that incredibly funny at the time, though come Christmas, I wouldn't think James all that funny.

"And who is my groom to be?" I asked, smiling at him. He took my hand, and mocked unhappy surprise.

"My darling, you do not remember me?" He put his hands, still holding mine, to his heart, and I felt it beating, "It is I, James Potter! Your husband to be!"

"My dear, is that you?" I cried, playing along, "I did not recognize your face, so much more handsome you are now!"

"And who is my lovely bride?" asked James.

"Lily," I said, pulling my hands away, "Lily Evens."

"Lily and James Potter," commented Hermia, "I like it!"

I thought I was in love, that moment that he held my hand to his heart, and I could feel it beating. Of course, at eleven, it is very hard to tell. James did seem to be my soul mate. He made me laugh, and my stomach flip-flopped when I was around him, though my feelings would drastically change at Christmas until our fifth year.

"Lily," James had said, "Let me introduce my best man, Sirius Black, and the other groom's men, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew!"

"Yes," I said, eying Sirius's long hair, "This is my maid of honor Hermia, and my two brides' maids, Adelaide and Adrienne."

By that time, the train was slowing at the station, and James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter had to go get their things. Hermia, Adrienne, Adelaide, and I collected our things, and stepped off the train. I could see Hogwarts in the distance, a silhouette against the stars, filled with dots of lights from the windows. I smiled, and knew this was all perfect.

**OK, did you like it. I hope so. If you folks want more than tell me, and I'll add another chappie. I probably will anyways, but thats not the point.**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**P.S. read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	2. The First Day

**Hi! **werewolvesrule282, **yes, this is Lily talking in the future about her time at Hogwarts School of Ballet and Arts. please review, and read my other stories.**

The conducter walks down the aisle of the train, calling for tickets. I produce mine, and he punches it with a hole punch. Rain begins to spatter the windows in an undecided beat, and I drift back to Hogwarts.

The morning of my first day at Hogwarts, I awoke happy and contented. I looked across the room, and saw Gemma, my room mate, still asleep. We hadn't had much time to talk last night, but I had found out that we had both been Little Red Riding Hood in the ballet Sleeping Beauty.

I crossed the room to my suitcases, yet to be unpacked, and pulled out a dressing gown, which I pull on over my thin nightgown. Quietly, I pulled open the door, and walked down the hall to the bathroom. No one was there yet, so I picked a fluffy white towel from the stack, and went into a shower.

Thirty minutes later, I emerged pink and wet. I pulled my dressing gown back on, and slung the towel into the laundry hamper, before walking back down to my room.

Gemma was up and getting dressed in the shortest shorts I had ever seen, and a little tank top.

"Hey," she said when I walked in.

"Good morning," I replied, and began pulling clothes out of my suitcase, and putting them in the wardrobe. I glanced at my watch. Seven fifteen. Breakfast started at half seven.

I started dressing in my favorite skirt, a pale pink one, that flowed to the ground, and a white polo shirt. Gemma eyed my clothes for a minute before saying,

"I like your skirt."

"I like your shorts," I replied. Gemma bent down to her suitcase and pulled out a pair of the same except pink not blue.

"Here, you can borrow a pair."

I didn't know how to say no without being rude, so I said thanks, and changed from my skirt to the shorts. Gemma eyed me again.

"You know, they look really good on you, but you'd look even better if you wore these," she got out a little white tank top with sequins, and a white and pink little off the shoulder jacket, "Here, try them on," urged Gemma.

I shrugged, and took off my polo and put on the tank top instead. It looked good, but my sports bra showed a lot.

"Can you change your bra?" asked Gemma. I shook my head.

"I only have sports bras."

Gemma sighed, and pulled out a bra from her suitcase, "This is my least favorite, so you can keep it."

I put it on. It was one of those ones that boost your boobs, and has jelly in it, so you look about a size bigger. I thanked her.

"No problem," she said, "Here," she twisted my red hair into a loose low ponytail at the side of my head, and put on mascara and eyeliner on my eyes, "You look perfect," said Gemma, standing back to see the effect, "Now just wear this leotard for our classes, and the guys will be falling all over you!"

I smiled half heartedly, took the leotard, and slung my bag over my shoulder.

When I entered the cafeteria, A.K.A. "The Great Hall," guys turned to stare at Gemma and I, and a few whistled. I wasn't sure I liked all the attention. I was only eleven-years-old. I've never worn makeup before, or such revealing clothes. Gemma intimidated me, but also awed me. I couldn't help but do what she wanted.

I sat down across the table from Gemma, and pulled a bowl of porridge towards me. James came and sat down on one side of me, with Sirius, Remus, and mousy little Peter, and a few minutes later, Hermia, Adelaide and Adrienne sat on my other side.

At eight o clock, we hurried to our first class, Literature. Until lunch we had normal classes, Maths, Literature, History, Geography, French, et cetera. After a half an hour break for lunch, we had dance related classes, Warm-up, Technique, Theory, Partnering, et cetera.

Four hours later the bell rang and we hurried back to The Great Hall to eat, before racing to our Warm-up class.

The teacher was a tall, short-haired woman named Madame Hooch. She led us in a series of warm-ups and stretches for an hour, before we moved on to Technique.

The Technique teacher was called Madame MacGonagall. She was strict, her hair in a tight bun.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she started the class, "In this school, everyone is expected to do their very best, and no less. In my class, there will be no fooling around or talking. You have been accepted at this school because you have talent, and I will not tolerate talented children to not be civilized."

We all stared at her, afraid to move.

"Now, please divide into four lines, girls in the front two, boys in the back to. Taller ones farther back then the shorter ones."

I hurried to the front row. I was about the shortest there. Hermia, Adelaide and Adrienne were all in the second line, though I stood next to Gemma.

Madame MacGonagall showed us a combination, and had us practice it. Then she called us up one by one to show her what we could do. My friends were all very good, especially James. Finally, I was called forward to do the combination.

"Lily Evens?"

I thought that I did pretty well, but felt very disheartened when I saw Gemma dance. She was very talented, and as I watched her, jealousy flooded my body.

As the train enters a tunnel, the sound of the rain is temporarily silenced. Gemma and I still keep in touch. She was never the best of friends, seeing as she was too wrapped up in how she looked, and how perfect she was, but during Seventh Year she managed to deflate her head a bit. She went out with James for nearly two years, from the middle of Fifth Year to the beginning of Seventh. It nearly broke my heart. The woman across the aisle grunts in her sleep. The fat man next to her is reading the newspaper. He reminds me of Peter, and I remember how, on that first day in Partnering class, he stepped on Hermia's toes sixteen times.

Monsieur Flitwick was the teacher in that class. The first thing he did was partner us. Unless something happened, those would be our partners for the next seven years. I was partnered to James, which he thought was fate. Sirius was Adelaide's partner, Remus was Adrienne's, and Peter was poor Hermia's. Gemma was partnered to a black haired boy named Severus Snape. They were both very good dancers, but danced with a stony face, and had no expression in their dance.

I smiled at James. Right then, my life was just right.

**OK, did you like it? plz review!**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	3. A Wonderful Surprise

**OK, the big chapter is coming up. I'd say 4 or 5. More likely chappie 5. But anyways, I hope you like this one. Lovely surprise for Lily in it, though not so lovely for Gemma... I'll let you read on then!**

I get up to go to the bathroom in the cramped train loo. When I get back, the fat man across the aisle complains that they don't have the type of club soda that he likes. The woman is awake, and begins knitting what looks like a lumpy pink sweater for a seven legged dachshund. I squirm in my seat, and try to sleep, but instead, I drift back to Hogwarts…

Two weeks went by in absolute bliss. I loved my life. Whenever I danced, I felt on top of the world. I still felt that Gemma danced better than I did, but decided that since I danced with expression and her with a stony face, we were equal in talent. James just loathed Severus. I don't know why.

Mid September a notice went up. All students were allowed to take part in an audition on Saturday for the Christmas ballet, _The Nutcracker_. I was so excited. I had seen the ballet many times, and loved the music and the dance. I longed to be Clara, the young girl who receives a nutcracker for Christmas. Though ugly, Clara loves the Nutcracker, and saves him when he fights a battle with the King of Mice. The Nutcracker turns into a handsome prince, and they journey through the Land of Snow to the Land of Sweets, his kingdom. Jubilant that he has returned to them, all the Sweets dance for Clara and the Prince, including the Dew Dropp Faery. The ballet ends with everyone dancing a grand finale, and Clara and the Prince live happily ever after.

Of course, Clara would probably be given to one of the older, more advanced girls, and I thought that I should be content with being a child at the party in the first act. Still, I ached to wear the pink party dress, then the flowing white nightgown of Clara.

The audition arrived all too soon. We were all (yes, all the students in the school who wanted to audition, which was a lot) put in a large practice room, to wait, and stretch before we were called.

Finally, "Dawson, Neal; Deniau, Adelaide; Deniau, Adrienne; Earhart, Kyle; Ebonio, Nadia; Evens, Lily; and Ferguson, Gemma," were called. I hurried into the other room with Gemma, Adrienne, Adelaide and some fellow first years.

Madame McGonagall taught us some combinations, which we performed one at a time, and that was it. Done.

We were told to go back to our dormitories to wait, which Gemma and I did.

"I messed up on the _ponche_," I said, the minute we got back.

"Oh well," she replied, "I think I did really well. They kept looking at me. I bet I get Clara."

She was so insensitive, and so unbelievable that I just stared at her.

"Clara will probably be cast to a much older and much more advanced girl," I said after a pause." Gemma shrugged.

"If you say so. But I still think that I have a chance," she went back to changing out of her leotard. I just continued to stare in disbelief.

The next Friday during classes, little slips of paper were handed out to everyone who got a part. I got one, but didn't have time to look, and just slipped it in my pocket.

About an hour later, while I was rushing from English History to French, Gemma caught my arm.

"What did I tell you?" she panted. I stared at her, "I was right!" she cried, and my mouth fell open.

"You're Clara?" I asked in disbelief. Even though I wasn't sure I believed her, a sudden wave of jealousy washed over me.

"No, I'm understudy!" she answered, and I felt a little better, "What part did you get?" I still hadn't looked at my little slip of paper.

"I don't know yet, hang on," I dug around in my pocket, and pulled out the rumpled slip. With slightly trembling fingers, I pulled it open, and read:

_Dear Miss Evens,_

_We are very pleased to inform you that _

_We have cast you in the role of Clara_

_In the upcoming Christmas Ballet, The_

_Nutcracker. We are confident that you will_

_Do a wonderful job, and wish you luck._

_Rehearsals begin promptly at ten tomorrow. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Headmaster_

I nearly dropped the slip of paper. I felt as though my mouth had dropped off, and my eyes had popped out.

"So what part did you get?" asked Gemma. She craned her neck to look at the note. I silently handed it to her. She read it, her eyes getting narrower and narrower.

"This can't be right!" she finally spat, "They wouldn't cast you over me!"

A ghost of a smile spread slowly over my face, "Apparently, Gemma, they have!" I pulled the paper back, and ran off to tell Hermia, Adelaide and Adrienne.

"Omigod!" cried Adelaide, "You got it! That is so cool! Oh Lily!"

Hermia hugged me, "And we're all girls in the party scene, so we'll be with you for that!"

"Adelaide and I are also peppermint sticks, and Hermia's a gumdrop," added Adrienne.

We were all so happy, and none more so than me. I wrote a letter to Mum right away, telling her I got the part, and rehearsals started the fallowing day.

The next day, Saturday, I woke early. I stole one glance at the sleeping Gemma, but did nothing else. All the previous day I could feel anger emanating from her, and had decided to wait for her to cool down.

I slipped out of the room with my dance bag, so I wouldn't have to go back there and risk waking my roommate, and hurried down the hall to the shower. There were already two girls in the showers, talking to each other over the water, but I ignored them, got a towel, and stepped into my shower.

It was then that I actually heard what they were saying.

"…can't believe they gave a _First_ Year the part!"

"She's pretty good, mind, but you would think they'd give such a big part to a more advanced student."

"Like me. I tell you, I was so close to getting it myself, but no, they have to ruin my dignity and give the part to an _eleven year old_!"

I stood, the water pouring down my back, before quietly saying, though not so they could hear me, "I'm going to be twelve in January…"

**That was pleasant, wasnt it? well, not the part in the shower, but oh well.**

** Do you see that little purle button over there? Sort of to the left, and down? It says submit, and it wants you to submit a review, or the order to make me your favorite author. Either one. Or both. But that little button is dying to be pushed!**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	4. The First Rehearsal

**A/N: Hi! OK, this is also more of a connecting chapter, but the next one(which will be out pretty soon) will be more action and adventure! Yeah! Read on, and PLEASE review.**

"We will be entering Godalming in five minutes!" cries the conductor, walking the length of the train. I ignore him and lean back in my seat. I check my watch. Five more hours. Good gracious. I always forget how long this ride is. Of course, it's no sacrifice to visit James where he's training in Wales, but can't he live closer to me? Only seven more months until we can settle down in a cottage in the country together, open a ballet school, and have some children. Speaking of ballet schools…

The girls in the shower had upset me, but I decided not to let it lower my moral. I waited until they left, and then got out of the shower, dried myself off, and dressed in a black leotard, pink tights, black legwarmers, a pink ballet skirt, and a pink and black striped sweater. I slipped sandals on over my bare feet.

I hurried down to the Great Hall, and ate a breakfast of porridge all alone. It was still pretty early, and none of my friends were up. I left the Great Hall at six-fifty, and rehearsals didn't start until half past eleven. I walked to an empty practice room. The cast list was pinned to the bulletin board, and I looked to see what other people had gotten.

The list read:

_Clara: Lily Evens_

_Clara's understudy: Gemma Ferguson_

_Nutcracker Prince: James Potter_

_Nutcracker Prince's understudy: Severus Snape_

_Fritz: Sirius Black_

_Fritz's understudy: Remus Lupin_

_Heir Silvertree: Monsieur Vector_

_Frau Silvertree: Madame McGonagall_

_Drosslemeyer: Monsieur Dumbledore_

_Drosslemeyer's understudy: Monsieur Flitwick_

_Party girls: Hermia Albrecht, Adelaide Deniau, Adrienne Deniau, Nadia Ebonio, Gemma Ferguson, Alice Percy, Molly Pruitt_

_Party boys: Neal Dawson, Kyle Earhart, Frank Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Lucias Malfoy, Severus Snape, Arthur Weasley_

_Governess: Madame Sinistra_

_Butler: Headmaster Dipitt_

And et cetera and et cetera. I squealed with delight that James had been cast as the Nutcracker. I also noticed that Peter wasn't on the list, not that it bothered me.

I left the list on the wall, and walked across the room to the small television that was used by the teachers to show us ballets. I searched through the racks of ballets, finally finding last year's version of _The Nutcracker_. I put the tape into the machine, and pressed play. The cast list scrolled across the screen, and I noticed that the same teachers had played the same parts.

I watched the whole party scene. When Clara got to her solo dance, right after Drosslemeyer gives her the Nutcracker, I watched intently, memorizing the steps. When she was finished, I paused it and rewound. I watched the dance again, while putting on my Pointe shoes. I played that dance again and again until the steps were drilled into my head, and then stopped the video, and walking out into the center of the room. I had stretched and warmed up while watching the video, and now I was itching to dance.

I ran over the steps in my head and began to dance. I danced without music for an hour, occasionally stopping to watch the video to clarify the steps. Finally, I went over to the stereo, rummaged through the CDs, and found one of the Nutcracker. I popped it in, and hunted through the tracks. Finally, I came to one about a minute before Clara's dance.

I walked to the center of the room, listening to the music. To my delight, I saw a nutcracker doll on a shelf, got it down, got into position, and began to dance. It wasn't perfect, but I felt that I was meant for this roll. I could feel that pink party dress whirl around me, I could feel my hair in ringlets with a large bow, I could see the audience, feel the spotlights…

I finished the dance where Fritz sneaks up and steals the Nutcracker from Clara, and heard clapping from behind me. I spun about, surprised to see Monsieur Dumbledore standing at the door.

"I can see that we made the right pick for our leading role," he smiled. I smiled back, stunned, "Come, rehearsals start in fifteen minutes and we need our Clara," he led me from the room to a larger room, filled to the brim with students.

I fought my way through the crowd to my friends. All were there accept Peter, seeing as he hadn't been cast in a role.

"Congratulations!" I squealed to James, throwing my arms around him.

"See Princess?" said James (he always called me Princess), "I told you fate would bring us together!" we laughed, and talked about the roles and casting before Headmaster Dipitt stood up and began to talk.

"Welcome, welcome!" He cried, opening his arms, "Thank you all for coming! As you all undoubtedly know, this is the Nutcracker! We have to leading roles, Clara and the Nutcracker Prince. Miss Evens, Mr. Potter, please come up," James and I glanced at each other, before fighting our way once more through the crowd to stand before Dipitt.

"Everyone, these are our Clara and Nutcracker!" James and I just grinned.

An hour later, time tables had been sorted out, and James and I were the only ones left in the room with Monsieur Dumbledore.

"Now, this scene we are about to practice is right after the battle scene. The Nutcracker has just killed the King of Mice after Clara distracted him by throwing her shoe. The curse on the Nutcracker has broken, he is now a prince, and they both dance together. Now here are the steps…"

James and I watched, mimicking our teacher. We practiced for an hour, before Monsieur Dumbledore pulled a mat out of a closet and announced that we would practice lifts. He showed us, lifting me into the air effortlessly. James tried to mimic him, and we ended up toppled on the floor.

"What did you eat for breakfast?" asked James, "Bricks?" I slapped him, perhaps more than playfully, but he deserved it.

The weeks went by. I was incredibly busy with lessons, practice and rehearsal. The first performance was scheduled for December 7th. It was now November 14th.

The next day was the first dress rehearsal, and I was so excited. Finally, I would be allowed to wear the dress of my dreams.

I woke up early, and ate a quick breakfast. There were only a few people in it besides me, so I ate my toast and marmalade in five minutes flat, and then walked outside. I walked round and round the lake, occasionally doing a few dance steps, sometimes breaking into a run. I felt alive.

**A/N: So, did you like it? That little purple button (the one that says** **GO, next to the SUBMIT REVIEW) is begging for your attention. Tell me what you think, PLEASE! plz plz plz ! ok. I've begged enough now. Time to say bye.**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS. read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	5. A Dream Come True

**A/N: Hi!**

DestinyCalls: **That's really awesome! Ya, my Nutcracker just ended last night. It was really fun, but the Snow King and Queen messed up big time. He almost dropped her! Twice! Anyways, I didn't get that great of a part. I was a snowflake, and a Lead Candycane, which was OK. I almost got Clara, which was really sad that I didn't, but this girl who was going to be Clara in New Orleans, and then had to evacuate because of the hurricane got the part instead of me. The sadness.**

Agnes1014:** Actually, I think its funny when ppl mimic ballet. Once my brother did musical theatre and they had to do a ballet class, and he couldn't even do a plie. It was really funny. I just don't like pple who think ballet isn't excercise. Which it TOTALLY is.  
**

**  
Oh, and sorry, the action/adventure chapter is the next chappie, but I promise its true. This is sort of a fun fun happy happy joy joy chappie, where nothing bad happens. In the next chappie though... Oops! did i just give something away?... Read and enjoy!**

My cell-phone rings. I pull it out, and see its James calling. He says hi, and asks how long until I arrive. I tell him I have four more hours, he says I love you, and we hang up. The rain had stopped briefly, but it's back again, pounding against the train. I pull out my iPod and start to listen to classical music. I begin to fade…

An hour later, I walked back up to the castle. I took a shower, and changed into a leotard, with warm-up gear over it.

I entered an empty practice room fifteen minutes later, and stretched. Then I put on _The Nutcracker_ music, and danced.

After about two hours, I stopped, and stretched. It's important to stretch after dancing as well as before.

I put away the Nutcracker CD, turned off the light, and hurried to the theatre. Hogwarts had many theatres in it, but only one was used for _The Nutcracker_. The theatre was large and beautiful, full of dark blue velvet seats, with silver linings, and a huge blue velvet curtain on the giant stage, dotted with silver stars.

The theatre was already bustling when I got there. The moment I stepped through the door, a short, fat woman, and a tall thin one hurried up to me, and each grabbed one of my arms.

"You're Lily Evens, right?" the fat one asked, in a breathy, high pitched voice.

"The girl who plays Clara?" asked the thin one. Her voice was low, and gravely. I managed to nod before they whisked me backstage, and into a dressing room. It was semi-large, and painted pale purple and gold. There was a big mirror lined with lights, a sink, a dressing table, and a large plush couch. There were two doors apart from the one that we had come in through. One said lavatory, which fully explained its use, and the other was blank.

"This is your dressing room," said the thin woman, "I am Charlene, and that is Yvonne," she pointed to the fat woman.

"Your costumes are in the closet," said Yvonne, "They should fit, but just incase they don't, we'll send a dressing attendant to alter them, and she'll also help you do all the ties, and to do your make-up and hair. She'll help you for the rest of the times as well."

"What's that door for?" I asked.

Charlene glanced at the door that I pointed to.

"Oh," she said, "That one leads to Mr. Potter's dressing room. There's a lock on that door," with that, both Yvonne and Charlene left the room.

I sat down on the couch, and sighed. Suddenly I remembered what Yvonne had said: "Your costumes are in the closet." I jumped off the couch, and yanked open the closet door. In it were my costumes. There was a pale pink party dress for the party scene, which I touched, smoothing the satin and velvet. There was the creamy white nightgown, for the battle scene, and snow scene, and then the golden and blue gown that was given to me by the Dew Dropp Faery when I got to the Land of Sweets. I squealed with delight.

"Some how," said a voice behind me, and I jumped, "I got the impression that you were a ballerina, not a pig,"

"James!" I squealed.

"…but I may have been wrong!" I hugged him, and laughed.

"Tell me next time, you fool!" I cried, "I might have been changing when you came in! Knock!"

He ignored me.

"Well, Princess, I'll leave you in peace," and he left. No sooner had he shut the door to his dressing room behind him, there was a knock on the other door.

I opened it. There stood a girl about three or four years older than me.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Tatiana. I'm your dressing attendant."

"Oh!" I cried, "Great, come in." Tatiana went over to the closet and got out my party dress.

"Try on this one, OK? Their starting in thirty minutes, so we better hurry."

I tried it on. It was a little long, but "nothing we can't fix," as Tatiana said. Then I tried on the nightgown. It fit perfectly. The gold gown fit as well.

"Now," said Tatiana, when we had confirmed that all the dresses fit. She sat me down, and began to curl my hair in ringlets, all the while talking, "They want everyone all done up for this rehearsal because they're going to take photographs to make into posters. You know, for publicity," she finished the curls and tied a large pink bow in my hair, and started on make-up.

Ten minutes later, I was finished, and Tatiana fetched the party dress. First she put a pair a pantaloons and a hoop skirt on me, and then slipped the dress on over my head. She laced the back, and then had me stand still while she pinned it to the proper length.

Finally, I was all dressed, and Tatiana left. I felt so…so… so I don't know what. It was just this feeling, and it was wonderful.

I sat down, and laced up my pointe shoes.

"All dancers please come onto the stage in five minutes time," rang out a nasally voice over the loudspeaker, "I repeat, all dancers to the stage in five minutes!"

I looked at myself in the mirror one last time, before hurrying out of my dressing room and onto the stage. It was packed with everyone from First Years in lamb costumes to Seventh Years in sparkly tutus.

When everyone was on stage, Headmaster Dipitt called for silence, and told us that we would run the whole show through without stopping, then he would give us notes, and then we would run it through slowly with corrections.

Everyone cleared, to the wings if their parts were near the beginning, or to their dressing rooms if their dance wasn't so soon.

I was in the right wing. Heir and Frau Silvertree were there as well, and Sirius, as Fritz was right next to me.

The music started and the first family hurried across the stage, bundled up, as though they were walking through the snow to get to some where, in this case, a party at the Silvertrees' home.

Then the second family walked across. Adelaide and Adrienne were in that family, dressed in matching sky blue dresses with matching dark blue cloaks.

Four more family's walked across the stage, before Drosslemeyer stepped out of his shop, holding a huge pile of packages. He set them down, and pulled out of his cloak something wrapped in cloth. He pulled off the cloth to reveal a nutcracker doll, and looked sadly at it before picking up his parcels and hurrying away.

The set changed, to look like a room in the house of the Silvertrees, with a large Christmas tree in it. Heir and Frau Silvertree put the finishing touches on the tree, before letting Clara and Fritz (Sirius and I) into the room.

The party scene progressed, and I felt, though it had many mistakes, we were doing a pretty good job.

**Um... thats it! Did u like it? that little purple button is still begging for attention. Like I said, next chappie is good chappie.**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	6. Disaster, Idiocy, Anger and Jealousy

**A/N: Ok, the chapter that you all have been waiting for!**

werewolvesrule282:** I'm glad you like it. And ya, I'm going to (probably) do part of the first year, and then skip to another year. Or do you think that I should do one story as her first year, and then another as her second year, et cetera? which do you prefer?**

** Hope everyone enjoys the story!  
**

My iPod bleeps, telling me that it's low on batteries. I scowl, and put it away. The train slows at a station, and I see a "Welcome to Wales" sign. That means I only have about two and a half more hours of my train ride left. I don't want to, but I can't help remembering what I then thought was the worst day of my life…

With a few quavering notes, the party scene ended by the governess gently yet firmly taking away the nutcracker doll my godfather Drosslemeyer gave me, and setting it by the tree. Sirius and I slowly walked off stage, as though to bed, and the minute we were in the wings, Tatiana hurried up to me with the nightgown I had to change into in about thirty seconds. I changed, and Tatiana took the bow out of my hair and handed me a candle.

The mice hurried off stage, and I ran on, frightened to be out so late, but desperate to get my nutcracker. I saw it, set down my candle, and danced a few steps before a mouse scared me off stage.

Then I had a chance to sit and watch most of the battle scene. At one point I had to run on, looking terrified, and then run off again. Finally, Tatiana handed me a Pointe shoe, and I raced onto stage. I saw James, as the Nutcracker, fighting with a Sixth Year as the King of Mice. I saw James fall to the ground, and that was my cue. I hurled the shoe as hard as I could. To my great surprise, the shoe hit the Sixth Year in the shoulder.

The King of Mice lunged towards me, and I fell to the ground, acting as though I was incredibly frightened. That distraction gave James time to leap off the floor and thrust his sword, killing the King of Mice.

I continued to lie on the floor, as the battle scene cleared, and the set changed to the Land of Snow. I felt James tap my shoulder, and I rose to meet him. We began to start our duet. The music increased.

I remember I did an _arabesque_ on pointe, and James, as he was supposed to, held my leg and my waist. I brought the leg I had been standing on, to my other leg, so he was holding me completely.

I slowly started to put my leg down, but before it touched the floor, I felt James' hands sliding away. For a mere second, no, less then a second, I was suspended in air, weightless, before I went crashing down on the floor.

I felt immense pain in my right ankle, and crumpled on the stage. I heard the music stop and feet running towards me, before Madame Hooch, Madame McGonagall, Monsieur Dumbledore and Headmaster Dipitt were bending over me.

"Someone get Madame Pomfrey!" I heard someone shout, and then Monsieur Dumbledore's voice:

"How did this happen?"

"It was a joke!" I heard James say, "I didn't mean for her to fall, only scare her. It was a joke!"

I didn't hear much after that. All I had registered was that my ankle hurt so badly, and James had let me fall on purpose.

I woke up the next day in the hospital wing. My ankle throbbed slightly, but wasn't screaming in pain like the day before.

I looked around me. Cold, clear sunlight streamed in through the windows. Madame Pomfrey came striding down the ward.

"Ah, you're awake," she said, when she saw me.

"What happened?" I asked.

"That idiot boy dropped you on purpose," she answered, a frown creasing her brow, "You broke your ankle when you hit the stage. I'm afraid you won't be dancing in the Nutcracker this year."

I stared at her in disbelief. Not dance in the Nutcracker? I started to cry. My dream roll. Now I would never be able to dance it. And Gemma, Gemma would get to dance instead of me.

"Now, don't worry, Dear," said Madame Pomfrey, in what she evidently thought of as a soothing voice, "Their not letting Mr. Potter dance this year either, because of what he did. Now you get some sleep, all right?" she pulled the curtains around my bed, and left.

I continued to cry. All my hard work. Down the drain. It would be Gemma who danced the part of Clara now. Gemma and Severus. Well, that served James right. His enemy doing his part because of a stupid joke.

Ooh, I hated James. How I hated him. I didn't think that I would ever talk to him again, let alone forgive him. His stupid joke! What an idiot!

I lay in the hospital for what felt like hours, seething, before I fell into a troubled sleep.

Three days later I was released from the hospital wing, with orders not to dance, and to come back every week for a check-up.

I wanted to dance, but I couldn't. If I so much as put too much weight on my foot, my ankle screamed with pain. Plus, I had a bulky cast on, which made it impossible to point my foot.

I wouldn't talk to James. He tried to come up to me and talk, he apologized many times, but I ignored him. My friends were all very sympathetic, and said that I was much better at dancing as Clara then Gemma, but it didn't really help.

I was unhappy and quiet for nearly three weeks, and as the performance day drew nearer, the unhappier and quieter I became.

I didn't want to go watch the performance, because I didn't want to see Gemma dancing my part, but all my friends begged me to come see them dance, so I had to oblige.

I had been given a ticket for free, which was a good thing, because I don't think I could have stood it if I had been made to pay twenty pounds for one, to see a show that I should have been starring in.

So, on December 7th, opening night, I found myself outside the theatre, dressed in a pale pink silk shirt and black velvet pants, waiting in line to be admitted.

I was handed a program by a Third Year, and didn't look at it until I was in my seat. But once I was in the plush, dark blue, velvet seat I opened the gold tasseled program, and looked inside.

The first page was a note from Headmaster Dipitt, saying how proud Hogwarts was to be putting on such a wonderful show, blah blah blah, et cetera, et cetera. Then there were about a billion pages of ads, for Pointe shoes, for beauty salons, for real-estate agents, et cetera, et cetera.

I flipped a page advertising Miss Jeraldine Finkley's Kool Kid's Klothes, and saw the cast list. It sort of shocked me. I was used to the cast lists that stated me as Clara and James as the Nutcracker Prince, but here, plain as could be, it read:

_ The Nutcracker Cast _

_**Act I**_

_**Clara:** Gemma Ferguson_

_**Nutcracker Prince: **Severus Snape_

_**Fritz:** Sirius Black_

_**Herr Silvertree:** Monsieur Vector_

_**Frau Silvertree: **Madame McGonagall_

_**Herr Drosslemeyer:** Monsieur Dumbledore_

_**Party Girls:** Hermia Albrecht, Adelaide Deniau, Adrienne Deniau,_

_Nadia Ebonio, Alice Percy, Molly Pruitt_

_**Party Boys:** Neal Dawson, Kyle Earhart, Frank Longbottom, _

_Remus Lupin, Lucias Malfoy, Arthur Weasley_

And et cetera and on. I felt a twinge a jealousy at seeing Gemma's name there. It should have been mine. I wanted to shout to the whole theatre: "That should be me, but stupid James Potter dropped me on purpose so I broke my ankle!"

I hated James Potter, and at that moment, I hated Gemma as well. I don't really know why, after all, all she'd done was be snobbish and self-absorbed, but I hated her. I hated them all. I think I might have even hated ballet, at that moment.

While I sat in my plush, dark blue, velvet seat, with the silver lining, seething, the lights dimmed, and Headmaster Dipitt stepped out on stage, holding a microphone.

"Thank you all for coming tonight, on the opening night of Hogwarts 27th annual Nutcracker!"

I tuned him out for a while, reading the break-a-leg messages in the program. I found about six billion for me, all saying how great I would have been as Clara, and how sad they were that I wasn't in the production, and how sorry they were that James had dropped me. There was even one from James himself, apologizing for the billionth time. I only found one message for Gemma, telling her she would be great, from her friend Narcissa Black (Sirius's cousin), which lightened my heart a bit.

I was shaken from my stupor by Headmaster Dipitt's voice saying my name:

"…sadly, Lily Evens was going to dance the role of Clara this year, but an unfortunate spill rendered it impossible. We are very sad Miss Evens could not dance this year, but delighted to have Miss Gemma Ferguson filling in for Lily with only three weeks of practice. We are sure that Gemma will do a fine job. Without further ado, the Nutcracker!"

The overture started, and I slid low in my seat, so angry that I wanted to scream. He had made it sound as though it was my fault I fell! And he had said that he was delighted that Gemma would be dancing!

I was jolted from my thoughts by the opening notes. The Nutcracker was about to begin!

**A/N: did you like it? REVIEW! (I love reviews!) School will be out next week, so I'll be cranking out the chappies. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah (SP?...Sry...) and any other holiday that you celebrate!**

**Luv, **

**Summer**

**PS read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	7. A Fight on Opening Night

**A/N: Hi everyone. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah (SP?) and what ever else you celebrate!**

**I have a question for all you ballerinas. I want to go to a summer intensive dance program this summer, but I have no idea where to go. I don't want somewhere too incredibly competitive, and I prefer it to be in California. Could anyone help me find a good program? Thanks a bajillion, and read on! **

The train slows, and stops at a station, to, as the conductor said, refill supplies. The gentle rattling is gone, and I realize it will probably an hour or so before we get going again. I sigh…

The beginning of the music had shot a jolt through me, and I sat erect in my plush, dark blue velvet seat.

I smiled when I saw Hermia cross the stage, her green party dress covered by brown cloak, and then Adelaide and Adrienne, in their matching blue.

And then Monsieur Dumbledore walked on. He had powdered his chestnut hair, so it looked silver, and I almost believed that he was old.

Then the scene changed to the Silvertrees' house, and I clenched my hands on the arms of my plush, dark blue velvet seat. Monsieur Vector and Madame McGonagall glided onto stage. It was incredibly startling to see Monsieur Vector in a nineteenth century suit (he favored sweats on normal days), and Madame McGonagall in a huge pink and blue dress, over a hoopskirt (she usually wore a plain black leotard, a black ballet skirt, and a black sweater).

But then I didn't care about Monsieur Vector and Madame McGonagall wearing funny clothes, because Gemma had come on stage.

She wore my costume, and her hair, her beautiful blond hair, was curled in perfect ringlets, with a large pink bow on top. I ground my teeth as she danced the steps that I should have danced.

My ankle throbbed, as though to remind me why I was sitting in the audience, in a blue velvet, silver lined chair, instead of onstage, hair in curls, dressed in that pale pink party dress.

The music, and the party scene wound on. I was pleased to see that Gemma fumbled a step in the solo, though it was so miniscule that I doubted anyone but a ballerina could see it.

Finally, the party scene ended, Madame Sinistra, as the governess, gently took the nutcracker doll away from Gemma. My heart wrenched when I realized for the first time that the doll they were using was the doll that I had first seen in an empty classroom, and practiced with. I wanted to jump up on stage and pull it away from Madame Sinistra, but I didn't. I sat in my seat, and stared with blank eyes as the battle scene progressed.

And then it was over. Or at least the first act. People flooded out of the theatre to buy pop, or a biscuit. I stayed rooted in my seat, staring at the blue curtain for the full quarter hour, just staring.

I sat for another hour, watching with a nearly blind eye the second act. I didn't clap, I didn't whistle, and when the show was over, and Gemma and Severus bowed, I most certainly didn't throw flowers on the stage.

I got up, hobbled along the row of seats, and then hurried back to my dormitory as fast as I could. I figured that if I left then, then I would be asleep when Gemma came back.

But I wasn't.

An hour later I lay in bed, seething, and the door was pushed open. Gemma stepped through and flicked the light on.

"Would you mind turning that off?" I asked, trying not to shout. I knew I shouldn't be mad at Gemma, but I couldn't help it, "I was trying to sleep."

Gemma glanced at me. Her hair was still in curls, and she still wore make-up.

"This is my room, too, you know," she said, "I need to use the light to get dressed for bed."

I glared at her, and turned my back.

"It's not my fault, you know," she said, and I nearly turned back to look at her, but decided against it.

"What's not your fault?" I asked.

"I didn't make you fall. James did. You don't have to get mad at me. Just because I did a better job at the part then you would have, doesn't mean you have to get mad at me."

I lept out of bed, landed on my casted foot, and fell to the floor. Glaring at her, I got up.

"You didn't do better then I would have," I growled, "I saw you mess up about a billion times. You shouldn't have gotten the part. Peter Pettigrew would have done better than you!"

Gemma turned slowly to face me, and I suddenly felt scared. I'm really small, only about four feet, three inches, and really thin. Gemma's thin, yeah, but about a half foot taller than me. If she wanted to, I bet she could clobber me.

"You take that back," she hissed, "You take that back right now!"

I sat down on my bed, "No. It's true."

I'm not sure what happened next, but suddenly I was on the floor screaming, and Gemma was sitting on top up me. My ankle throbbed.

I heard running foot steps, and the door was wrenched open. Gemma leapt off me. Hermia stood in the doorway.

"My gosh, what happened Lily? Gemma what were you going? Lily, speak to me, are you OK?"

I pushed myself off the floor for the second time in the last quarter hour, and sat on my bed.

"I'm OK," I said, though my ankle kept throbbing, and my head felt hot, "Gemma tackled me because I said Peter Pettigrew would have done a better job at Clara then her."

Suddenly, Madame McGonagall appeared behind Hermia, who leapt out of the way.

"Well, what have we here? A midnight party? I think you girls better come to my office."

**"We are in trouble now, aren't we?**"

**--Filch, _Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone_.,**

**Hehe, that chappie was fun to write! I hope you enjoyed it! Happy Holidays, y'all!**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS, read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! **


	8. Shatter

**A/N: Hey Peeps! Sorry it's been so long, but I've been hecka busy. Auditions for ballet summer intensives have started, so I have one or two auditions almost every weekend. Plus I have ballet five days a week, and a tone of homework. To add on to all of that, I got a bird two weeks ago (a lovebird), whose name was Zazu, so I was learning how to take care of him, when he got this virus, and stopped eating and drinking.. So on Tuesday evening, he passed out (basically) on the floor of his cage, and I spent the whole night feeding him water with a dropper. He was getting better, but then he died around 11 o'clock on Tuesday night. He was my first ever pet, and so I had to spend all Wednesday, and most of Thurseday feeling sorry for Zazu and me, and doing things that I don't like, (AKA skipping school and shopping... no seriously, I HATE shopping... call me crazy...), so I don't feel bad about doing things that are fun when Zazu just died...**

**OK, sorry for that really long A/N... I have a pretty long chappie to make up for it, though! Enjoy! **

I walk to the dining car, and buy a salad to tide me over to the dinner that I will have at James' in about two hours. It's the kind of salad that has those weird, red-brown little specks that some people call bacon. I pick them out. They're not good for my figure, and they taste awful. I throw away the empty salad container, and sit back in my seat…

Madame MacGonagall made Hermia tell her what had happened, I think because both Gemma and I looked so angry we could kill, and wouldn't be able to tell an unbiased story.

Hermia told MacGonagall all she knew; she had heard screaming and thumps coming from mine and Gemma's room (which was right next to hers) and had hurried in to see Gemma on top of me as though to attack.

That got MacGonagall angry enough. Gemma begged to tell her side, and said that I had provoked her into attacking me by saying that she had been an awful Clara.

The funny thing was, that didn't help Gemma at all, especially when MacGonagall asked me to tell my story, which I told.

Because we had both said that the other was awful, and then Gemma attacked me, MacGonagall obviously thought that Gemma had done something far worse.

Gemma ended up with detention, and, to my delight, was going to switch rooms with Hermia, who shared with a girl by the name of Persephone Waters, which meant Gemma and Persephone would be roomies next to me and Hermia. However, Gemma wouldn't have to move out until the next day, because it was far too late tonight.

The next day though, neither Gemma nor Hermia had time to switch because there was a matinee and an evening show, which kept them busy. I didn't feel like seeing another show; I figured it would just depress me.

Instead, I wandered the deserted corridors. I stopped at the Great Hall to grab an apple, and thought vaguely of going to the library, to get some of my winter break homework done.

I was walking down the corridor to the library, feeling incredibly sorry for myself, when I heard a shout behind me.

"Lily!"

It was James. I resolutely ignored him.

"Lily! Wait!"

I picked up my pace. I was nearly to the library door, when James grabbed my arm.

"Lily. Please. It was just a joke. And I've said I'm sorry. Please. Can't you forgive me?"

I glared at him.

"Some joke, Potter! Because of you, my life is ruined! If you hadn't played your stupid joke on me, then I would be out there, starring in that show, not clumping around in this cast! I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you, James Potter."

I whirled on my heel, yanking my arm away. I didn't feel like going to the library any more. I walked away as fast as I could, angry tears clouding my vision. He didn't follow me, thank goodness, and I walked until, exhausted from my anger, I collapsed against a stone wall and sobbed.

James didn't try to apologize again. I avoided him, and he stopped going out of his way to find me. He stopped being 'James' in my mind, and started being 'Potter.' After that, everything he did, his stupid jokes, his idiot pranks, all seemed to make me hate him more.

Christmas came four days after the Nutcracker ended. I woke on the morning of the twenty-fifth actually feeling slightly happy. Hermia had already dressed and gone. I dressed in a long white skirt, covered in little sparkles, and a pale green sweater.

I left my room and hurried downstairs to the common room, carrying a stack of presents for my friends. There was a huge Christmas tree that had been placed in the corner of the room, under which a large pile of parcels rested. A fire crackled merrily in the grate, and, to my delight, I saw it was snowing.

I spotted my friends sitting in front of the fire, unwrapping gifts. I made my way towards them, through a jungle of wrapping paper and ribbon, and set down my stack of packages in front of them.

"Happy Christmas!" I said.

"Happy Christmas!" they all chorused.

I went over to the Christmas tree, and sorted out my gifts, before joining my friends again.

I got some dance clothes from Mum and Dad, a best-friend necklace from Hermia, a pillow from Adelaide, which had a picture of the four of us printed on it, and some books on famous dancers from Adrienne. My sister had sent a two pound coin.

I had thought I was done unwrapping, when I felt a hard package underneath my knee. I lifted it, to recognize Potter's handwriting. My eyes narrowed.

"Happy Christmas, Moony!" I heard a voice calling, and looked up to see Potter greeting Lupin. Potter looked at me.

I looked right back at him, and began to open the package. It was a small glass ornament, in the shape of Clara. I looked back at Potter, to make sure he was watching, and threw the ornament into the fire, where it shattered.

Potter turned his back on me, and left up the staircase. I smiled triumphantly.

Three days after Christmas, I got my cast off. I felt like I would go mad if I had it on for one more second. I hadn't danced in six whole weeks.

I hurried back to my room, and changed into a lavender leotard, tights, the lavender and white sweater and legwarmer set I had gotten from Mum and Dad, and a white dance skirt.

It was still early in the morning, and a Saturday, so most people were still in bed, lazing around until their lesson that afternoon.

I soon found an empty practice room. I set my bag down, and went over to the CD player, where I put in some classical music. I let the music fill the whole room. I sat down, and laced up my pointe shoes.

I went to the bar, and began to warm up slowly. My ankle didn't hurt, but it felt incredibly weak, as did the rest of me. After about an hour (and six CD changes) I felt warm enough to go to the center.

I switched CDs again, and walked to the middle of the room. I started with _port de bras_, using my arms. Then I did a simple _pique_ into _arabesque_. I felt my ankle wobble, and came down quickly. I tried another _pique_, but again felt my ankle begin to give way, and came down quickly.

I stamped my foot angrily, frustrated that I couldn't do a simple _pique _into _arabesque_, but immediately regretted it when my ankle twinged.

I went over to the stack of books on a shelf, and scanned the titles, searching for the one I needed, _Stretching and Strengthening: A Dancer's Guide_. I pulled it out from under a book about Gelsey Kirkland, and flipped to the index… ankle strengthening… I turned to page 348, and read it briefly, before beginning.

I did every single ankle exercise in the book, for both my ankles, and by then, it was half past one, and I was starving. I stuffed my warm-up gear in my bag, slipped on a skirt and cardigan, and hurried off to lunch.

I ate my regular lunch of yogurt and a salad and than hurried back to the practice room. I had a lesson at half five, which gave me three and a half hours to practice on my own. However, I had just eaten, so I couldn't dance right away.

I had, of course, stretched over the time that I couldn't dance. I had stretched obsessively, actually, in all my spare time, what with no dancing and no school due to Christmas holidays. So, I was pretty loose.

I slid easily into the splits, and began to work on squaring off my hips. I stretched for half an hour before I felt ready to dance.

I didn't try any jumps or strenuous moves, just simple Adagio, moves that I had learned and perfected years ago. But after an hour I was sweaty and red-faced, and as exhausted as I was after three hours of working my hardest at strenuous moves.

I felt like crying. I was so weak. I didn't want to go to class, where everyone would surely watch my every move, because I had just gotten my cast off, and was dancing for the first time in six weeks.

I just wanted to slink into a dark corner and cry.

**Well, that little purple button hasn't been pressed in a long time...**

**Luv,**

**Summer**

**PS read, write, eat, sleep and DANCE! (and morn Zazu, who was the darling-est three month old masked blue lovebird ever!) **


	9. Starting Over

**A/N: Hi people. Sorry it's been so so long. I started high school this year, which is way more intense then middle school. Also, ballet has gotten a lot more demanding, so I've just been way busy. I know, I know, excuses. Sorry. Just read!**

I smile wanly as I remember that first class after I got my cast off. I had stayed in the shadows, and ignored everyone when I danced. Madame MacGonagall didn't make me dance on my own, thank goodness, nor did she ask Gemma to.

Gemma was still basking in the glory of the Nutcracker, and showed off the whole class. After it was over, I slunk outside, miserable and exhausted, to sit beside the lake.

I think I fell asleep, because when I looked up, it was dark. I got up stiffly, and wandered inside for dinner.

It took me a month to get back up to my previous strength, including private strengthening lessons with Madame Hooch, and my own practice sessions.

About a week later were auditions for our Spring Recital. The Spring Recital was different then any other show that Hogwarts puts on. It's just a whole bunch of different dances, and everybody gets a part. You audition for the larger parts, and anyone who doesn't get a big part got stuck in as extras. Every year there are some of the same dances as the year before, and some new ones. Usually, this is the time when seventh years get to choreograph pieces. The Spring Recital was entirely for parents, family and friends.

I auditioned with the rest of the first year class. It wasn't as formal as with the Nutcracker, more like a normal class. We did some _adagio_, _petite_ and _grande allegro_ and then paired up to do some _pau de duex_. I was paired now with a boy called Kyle Earheart, and Potter was paired with someone else… normally you're paired with the same boy until you graduate, but in this case, it was a good idea to switch us.

Monsieur Dumbledore told us that the parts would be posted the week after, and we were dismissed.

I wasn't hoping for a large part. I was just hoping for a chance to dance.

My whole tragedy around the Nutcracker had changed me. I had thought a lot in those weeks when I couldn't dance. I realized it wasn't the end of the world. I resolved to be better. I wanted to be a stronger, more emotional, more graceful dancer. Even if lead roles and good parts were taken away from me, no one could take dance away.

And so, I wanted to just dance.

The cast list was posted Friday while I was in Character Class. While my classmates and friends flocked to the notice board, I went the opposite direction.

I squirted hot water from the jug in the Great Hall into a flimsy foam cup, and added an herbal tea bag. I grabbed an apple, and walked out onto the grounds. I found a secluded spot behind some bushes on the lake shore, and took out the book I was reading. It was about Anna Pavlova, and I read it while I waited for my tea to cool.

I was spending more and more of my time by the lake with a cup of tea, sometimes reading, more often just thinking.

My friends found me later, eating dinner in the Great Hall.

"Lils!" cried Hermia, the minute she saw me, "Lils, we got _The First Year Quartet_!" I looked up from my stew.

"Really?" I asked. I was fond of that dance. It was always given to four first years, and changed a little to suit the girls. The steps stay mostly the same, but the girls get to change the story however they want.

"Yep. And Adelaide and Adrienne are in a new one, and I'm in _Rainbows_."

"_Rainbows_?" I said, "Brilliant. I love the lighting to that dance."

"Lils…" Adrienne started, "You're not just in _Quartet_."

The three exchanged looks.

"You're in _Shadow Dance_ as well," finished Adelaide. I looked at them.

"You're joking," _Shadow Dance_ was my favorite dance. It was a duo. One person was the girl. They did the main dancing. The other was the shadow. They followed, and shadowed everything the girl did. The girl kept feeling like there was someone there, and turning around, but her shadow turned around too, so she couldn't see it. In the end she gets so frustrated, and falls to the ground. The shadow does too. Then, the girl turns around really quick, and the shadow jumps up and poses. And the lights dim. Everyone loves the girl, because she's so pretty, and curious and frustrated, and they don't really like the shadow because she's so sneaky and mean. But it's still a very good dance.

"No," said Hermia, "We're not. You're the girl."

I let out a sigh of relief.

"And my shadow?" I asked suddenly, "Whose my shadow?"

The three exchanged looks again.

"Gemma," whispered Adelaide, "Gemma Ferguson."

My former room-mate arrived late for our first rehearsal. Her hair was mussed, and her leo was wrinkled. Madame McGonagall, our rehearsal director, eyed her with that hawk-like look.

Gemma stopped when she saw me. It was obvious she didn't know who was playing the girl.

"Her?" she asked, from the doorway, "I have to be _her_ shadow?"

Madame McGonagall's lips formed a thin line, "Believe me," she said in a tight voice, "It was not _my_ decision."

"Please," I interjected, "Could we just dance, please?" She nodded.

"Yes. Girls, you both start offstage. The stage is marked in the blue tape on the floor there. Miss Ferguson, obviously, since you are the shadow, you will start upstage of Miss Evans. It starts simple. Just follow my lead, and see what it's like."

Madame McGonagall led us in a series of _piques_, _balances, pas de bourres, _ghost walksand_ bourres_. Gemma kept attempting to come downstage of me. I let her, but Madame McGonagall would bark, "Miss Ferguson! Upstage please!"

Gemma was obviously unhappy about being cast below me again. I, however, was not glad, more… curious. I wondered why I kept getting slightly better parts then Gemma, when it was obvious that Gemma had better technique. Her extension was sky high, and her turn-out was amazing. She had the most beautiful feet that were always pointed. Everything she did was precise and exact. I would have given loads to have her technique.

Today, all we did was learn the beginning. That's the part before the girl starts thinking that someone's following her, and just dances. My favorite part is when I get a sort of solo. See, the lighting in the dance changes at certain times, to emphasize the shadow aspect, so what Gemma is doing changes. There's this whole section where she's on her pointes and I am not, and then the lighting changes, and the shadow gets shorter, and Gemma sits down.

I do this whole adagio sequence that is mostly _por de bras_, and Gemma imitates my arms. I really like it, because the adagio is really pretty, and all the arms are added.

The _First Year Quartet_ was fun to learn. We had a whole rehearsal where all we did was brainstorm story ideas. We finally decided on the theme of growing up. There would be four girls, and they would all be friends. Then, two of them would grow up and leave. Then the third and fourth girls would be playing/dancing, and the third one would start growing up. The fourth would try and hold on to her, but she would slowly leave. And then the fourth girl has a solo, before she too, grows up and leaves. The third girl gets sort of pulled back to her childhood, and she looks for her friends, but they aren't there. There's this ribbon that the four girls play with throughout the whole dance, and it's lying on the floor. The third girl picks it up, and throws it into the air, and then the lights go, and the dance is over.

It was Hermia's idea, so I said Hermia should get the part of the fourth girl. Adelaide and Adrienne said it would make the most sense for them to be the first two girls to leave.

"So, I'm the third girl, then," I said, and everyone nodded.

We practiced hard. I had much more fun in that dance, then with the _Shadow Dance_. Hermia and I each got a solo, and we had loads of fun working together.

**A/N: Happy Holidays everyone! Schools out now, so I'll have loads of time to churn out more chappies!**


	10. Perseverance

**A/N: Hallo everyone. My apologies for the long delay. I was off dealing with life for a couple years. Not sure how many of you will still be reading this, but I think we all know that reviews are always appreciated.**

**I'm just getting back into the swing of things, so sorry if this isn't what you're used to. Enjoy :]**

I come back from the loo again, and look out the window. The rain has started up again, thick, fat drops that smack and streak against the train. My mind still on Hogwarts, I think back to a February so long ago.

While everyone else was fussing about Valentine's Day and French exams, I focused more and more on my technique. Years later, reflecting on that time with Hermia, she mentioned how much more serious I became. While I still joked and played like your average eleven year old, I had grown an immense amount in a short period of time.

I worked almost religiously, finishing all my homework at light-speed, so I could sleep early—and wake early. I would rise from bed in the dark every morning, and go for a run around the lake. Then, I would find an empty studio—it was never hard at that time of morning—and practice on all the infinitely small aspects of my dancing.

Of course, I improved quickly, and others noticed. Gemma especially noticed, glowering at me. Adelaide told me not to be bothered by her—she was just jealous. Though I did get a small satisfaction from it, I was hardly bothered by Gemma any longer. In rehearsals, though sullen and bitter, she no longer attempted to upstage me. _Shadow Dance_ pulled together, slowly and surely, under the hawklike gaze of Madame McGonagall.

One morning in early March, as I stood in bedraggled sweats and threadbare socks, clutching the _barre_, slowly rising again and again onto my toes, feeling the slight burn of my muscles, a cough broke my concentration. I looked up, startled, and saw Monsieur Dumbledore.

"Oh! Sir—I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see—"

"No need to apologize," He said, smiling. In the dim light, his half-moon spectacles still gleamed, "What are you doing up so early, working so hard?"

I—shy girl that I was—didn't met his eyes. Thoroughly engrossed in the loose threads of my socks, I muttered, "Oh, just... practicing, working, you know. I just want to... do better." I glanced up, to see him still smiling, observing me with a look that almost seemed like pride.

"Do better? But, Miss Evans, you must—by this point—have realized your skill. You must be aware that you are top of your class."

I still didn't meet his eye. I was so utterly modest, it was hard to admit—but I had realized that, out of all the students in my year, I was one of the most advanced, "I had...noticed, sir, but..."

"But?"

Now, I looked at him, a sudden, strange burst of confidence rushing through me, "But one can never stop improving, right sir? One can never believe that just because they are at the top means they have no where else to go. Sir, I don't want to be better than anyone else—I just want to be the best I can be—" I stopped quickly, realizing how blatantly cheesy my small monologue had become.

I realized that during my whole outburst, our eyes had locked. His face was once more filled with that inexplicable pride. "Of course, Miss Evans," was all he said, "I'll let you back to your work, shall I? Have a good breakfast."

And he turned, and left. I stood, staring after the man. It had seemed, in his simple "of course," that he verified every thought that had passed through my head in the last months. It had seemed that in his small smile, he had understood exactly why I was working so hard, and why I felt the need to, even when I was at the top of my class.

I found myself staring at myself in the mirror—small, pale, dressed in bland, too-large sweats, with my flaming red hair pulled loosely up. I walked slowly to the stereo and—not knowing what was about to come on—pressed play. The strange, haunting music of a single violin filled the small studio.

I began to dance. I let the music pull me, turn me, push me, change me. I moved slowly, the quicker. I reached high, turned, reached low. I danced. It was exhilarating. I felt that this small, once broken body of mine could accomplish anything. The music faded, and I was left, no sad, but breathing hard, grinning. I went to breakfast.

Potter was the problem I had yet to figure out. Though he had long since stopped trying to apologize or fix what had been done, I often found him staring at me from across the breakfast table—or worse, found myself staring at him. Though the thought of him brought on a thick, heavy rush of anger, I couldn't stop remembering the feeling I had when I first met him—a feeling, strangely, of fate, or, more precisely, naturalness. Yet I always brushed it aside, scoffed it away, reminding myself of the hatred I held for that dashing, dark-haired, _cruel, nasty_ boy.


End file.
